


The way you make me feel

by Clusterfuckofcoconuts



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Self-Harm, first fic, its some kind of AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 13:41:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8803042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clusterfuckofcoconuts/pseuds/Clusterfuckofcoconuts
Summary: The great Victor Nikiforov, five time gold medalist and all around gentleman, was brought to his knees by a young Japanese drunk-out-his-mind skater who could break dance, pole dance, and tango.





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhhhh~~  
> this is my first fic ever so I'm sorry its not very long yet. I needed to set it up and decided a direction that i wanted it to go in.

Victor is someone that everyone either wants to be, or wants to be with. He’s understood this and accepted it sense he was young, but it made relationships difficult and let a kind of aching loneliness sink deep into his bones for 20 long years. But the great Victor Nikiforov, five time gold medalist and all around gentleman, was brought to his knees by a young Japanese drunk-out-his-mind skater who could break dance, pole dance, and tango. Those memories were engraved into his mind for months. He had not felt that kind of happiness in so long that he thought it was lost to him, only to be brought back by Yuuri Katsuki who danced with Victor as if he cared about nothing else in the whole world. 

When the video finally surfaced of Yuuri skating again Victor was physically shook. He noticed instantly that the boy on the ice in this video was not the same Yuuri whom he danced with. Yuuri was heavier, having seen him almost completely naked before, it was easy to tell he had put on weight and as he watched him skate he could feel everything. Every bit of longing, sadness and need was thrown out onto the ice for him to see and it wasn’t just any regular old routine…it was Victor’s very own. He knew the routine better than anyone, and every bit of it unfolding before him on his phone was pure perfection. How could this be the same skater who flubbed all of his jumps? That’s what he set out to figure out. That, and one other thing.

Japan was calling, and Victor wasn’t about to decline.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now, it was Yuuri’s turn to be equally as shook and by all means, he was one hundred percent, without a doubt, so shook that he was pretty sure he was dreaming. That was until he woke up to either his alarm clock, to go be trained by Victor Nikiforov or, Victor Nikiforov himself would be pawing at Yuri’s door half asking and half demanding to be let in.

‘It’s just a dream,’ he’d tell himself every damn day, ‘just a really, really long dream.’

But there was no waking up from this. Yes, the poor shy and insecure boy was shook down to his very bones but deep inside he loved every bit of this. In a really fucky kind of way, this was better than just competing on the ice with Victor because now he had the opportunity to know the man he’s looked up to for so long. Yuuri didn’t understand why Victor was so touchy, nor why Victor heavily demanded to be his coach but he was happy for both. Thankful for both. And ready to hold on to both for as long as he could, that, he decided when Victor was almost ripped away from him by the Russian Yuuri. A panic attack inducing event that Yuuri wanted shove deep into the depth of his mind until it was forgotten entirely.

He couldn’t pin point why exactly, but the thought of losing Victor from his life scared him more than death itself. He knew he had a crush but Yuuri refused to call it love.


	2. Beginning to understand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor realizes why Yuuri acts a certain way and searches for a way to address it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh okay I can't believe I just typed all this up in a little under two hours but i had toooo  
> *phew*  
> I hope that this all sounds okay to all of you  
> I'd also like to address the time period in the story. It's the first week after the Japan Figure Skating Championships while their preparing for the cup of ChINAAAA. Poor Yuuri is just having a hard time with his anxiety, poor babe :c

Victor set his book aside and drew a hand through his slightly damp, silvery hair while a deep sigh left his lungs. It had been one of the longest weeks of his life. Next to him Makkachin whined and nuzzled his side, knowing something was troubling the man and attempting to offer comfort. He only wished it was Yuri nuzzling into his side, though he felt a little guilty at the thought.

”Makkachin, what am I to do?” He stroked the pup’s head, trying to find comfort in the soft fur, “His skating is improving but he hasn’t opened up to me at all. He wouldn’t even tell me when he landed on his wrist wrong. It’s as if he’s afraid to tell me anything like I’ll-…”

He froze as the thoughts connected and he started to understand the anxiety taking place in Yuuri’s mind, but he needed more. He needed to hear it and he needed to feel trusted and most of all, he needed to let Yuuri know that he would help him. Victor only stayed up a small while longer, collecting what he wanted to say tomorrow and how he would approach it. It was their day off tomorrow so he had the whole day to approach it, and with this new found determination Victor slipped easily into sleep. Dreaming of nothing more than gliding across the ice, hand in hand.

The next day didn’t go quite like Victor had planned, but for Yuuri it was a heart racing, panic attack struggle kind of day. Every time Victor tried to get Yuuri alone to speak with him he was insta-avoided. Never is his life has Victor been so steadily avoided by someone and it was truly frustrating but he refused to back down. Yuuri behaving in such a way only reinforced Victor’s theory on what was going on but after having Yuuri’s door slammed in his face later that evening, he began to feel rather crestfallen and retreated to take a bath and collect himself and his thoughts.

Yuuri had other ideas.

He made a fake pillow Yuuri under his blankets, grabbed his bag and began making his way to the rink. It felt like ages sense he last skated just for himself so he could clear his mind and work at his own pace. Lately he felt he needed this more than he needed to eat or sleep. Which is why, at almost midnight, Yuuri was was walking up the castle steps and unlocking the door.

Yuuri flipped the lights on but only the ones that directed straight down onto the ice. He wanted to see nothing else but the ice and wanted to feel only the running of his skates across it as he lost himself in it like he was drowning. After a quick change he was gliding along the ice, pulling on his gloves and letting the chosen song flow through him. His movements came naturally and flowed together almost seamlessly like a choreographed routine. In this state, he was landing every jump, even the ones he couldn’t in practice just the day before.

The song was longer than most he skated to, but he kept going, letting the entire seven minute song out onto the ice. At five minutes in his breathing was heavy and he’d done so many jumps his feet and ankles were beginning to protest but he went along anyway, feeling a tear fall from his closed eyes. He needed this. He needed to let out his anxiety about disappointing Victor and he needed to remind himself what he could really do on the ice and why he loves this so deeply.

Yuuri came to a slow and peaceful end as the last notes faded out in his ears only to jerk his head up at the sound of another pair of skates on the ice, a single word falling quietly from his lips, “Victor…”

”You’ve been avoiding me, Yuuri.” Victor stated once he came to a stop in front of Yuuri who was still heaving large breaths, “Something is troubling you, no?”

Yuuri felt his face begin to heat up with embarrassment, clenching his hands into fists at his side and making his wrist angry from the tension. “So tell me,” Victor continued in his damn smooth as honey voice, running his cold fingertips across Yuuri’s now flaming cheek, “What could be bothering you so much that you couldn’t tell me?”

There were no words, Yuuri had none. He wasn’t used to telling anyone anything, let alone how he felt and what was bothering him. Needless to say, he simply just didn’t know how. So he stared down at the ice, not able to meet Victors eyes as he sighed and moved closer to Yuuri, placing one hand on his waist and another under his chin. He knew that Yuuri was tired but he also knew that if he was going to make this work, he had to do this Yuuri’s way. Slowly he lifted Yuuri’s chin and though his eyes where still downcast, he placed his other hand to Yuuri’s waist as well and began to glide along the ice with him. At this Yuuri’s eyes widened and the blush across his face darkened because hell, he was skating with Victor Nikiforov.

They stayed like this for a while until Yuuri’s shoulders relaxed and he placed a trembling hand on Victor’s shoulder, allowing Victor to quickly grab Yuuri’s trembling free hand and begin spinning them around more gracefully. Victor kept his eyes on Yuuri and only Yuuri the entire time, watching every flick of emotion in his eyes and on his face.

Finally after some time had passed, Victor spoke, “You are worried about disappointing me, yes?” He felt Yuuri tense and watched him slowly nod once. Victor then stopped them and pulled Yuuri directly to his chest so that his eyes would meet with his, their noses practically touching, “Yuuri, the only way you could ever disappoint me is if you stopped skating.”

Yuuri pushed away from Victor, needing the space as his eyes began to water as Victor continued, “I don’t expect you to tell me everything right away now that I understand but please, do tell me when you are hurt. That is something to never be ashamed of.”

Victor paused for a moment, wishing to reach out to Yuuri and wipe those tears from under his eyes and hold him but refrained from doing so, “Does it hurt badly?” ,he asked quietly as Yuuri shook his head at him, sniffling, “Good. Then let us head back, your feet must hurt a bit and you need to rest. If you’re feeling too tired I could carry you back.”

Yuuri’s eyes went wide and his face, if even possible, turned a shade darker than it had been before and stuttered out a quick, “N-no!” before heading to the locker rooms to change.

Victor couldn’t help but smile as he watched him scuttle away. His shy little Yuuri was back and on top of that, he had watched one of his dreams unfold in front of him. The two skating together across the ice to only the sound of the blades and their hearts to fill the silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, this is the song i had in mind for when Yuuri was skating. Its one of my personal favorites.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H_VyGGLaWUg 
> 
> <3


	3. A dark cloud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He isn’t sure what has been happening over the last couple weeks but he could swear it felt like a dark cloud moving over his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided a direction for this particular fic, and it will have more of a focus on mental illness/health. This is partially for myself, as I have been struggling greatly with my own lately and I'm using this as a healthy outlet for myself. As of now there will be a focus on anxiety, clinical depression, and maybe a dusting of ptsd later on. These will be added to the tags for everyone.

Yuuri couldn’t ignore the burning in his chest or the churning knot in his stomach any longer. Excusing himself from a mostly untouched dinner and avoiding Victor’s knowing eyes, he moved quickly to his room. The young skater wasted no time gathering his bag, coat and shoes to begin making his way to the rink like he had every other night this week. Yuuri liked the time to himself and Victor hadn’t come to find him sense the first night he was there. Whether or not Victor knew where he was he didn’t care. He wasn’t pushing himself hard enough to get hurt so it didn’t matter, at least not to himself.

”Yuuri…” said a low, silk voice standing in his doorway. Yuuri took in a breath, shouldered his bag and turned to face the older man with as much as a stone expression as he could get, “You must let your body rest, at this rate you will get hurt.”

He felt his cheeks begin to warm up, they did almost every time he was around Victor outside of training and it was maddening for Yuuri. The butterflies were something he tried often to ignore but the more he tried to suppress them the more there seemed to be. “I-I’m sorry.” Yuuri said, his grip on his bag tightening from frustration. He hated how Victor made him stutter, “I…I need this. The time. Alone.”

Victor’s brilliant blue eyes softened and he moved forward to place a hand onto Yuuri’s shoulder while a sigh escaped those impossibly perfect lips, ”Yuuri, please talk to me.”

”L-later.” Yuuri mumbled, “Just give me some time, right now…p-please.”

Victor nodded, clearly not pleased with the answer but he would take what he could get and if that meant later Yuuri would talk, then so be it. “Be safe, Yuuri. If you aren’t back within an hour I will come get you.”

Yuuri pressed his lips together, nodded and moved quickly away from Victor before he could be stopped again. The chill night air felt good against his too warm cheeks while he jogged to the Ice Castle, memories of a more innocent time flooding his mind, wishing he could go back to then and start all over again. He isn’t sure what has been happening over the last couple weeks but he could swear it felt like a dark cloud moving over his mind. Something like this has never happened to Yuuri with no purpose behind it. Last time he felt this down it was because of how disappointed he was in himself with his skating, making him want to disappear. The time before that was when his childhood dog had passed away but this time, there was nothing. Not one negative factor that could have provoked this mental situation and because of that, he felt as if it wasn’t something that he was allowed to talk about. With his long time idol and crush, Victor Nikiforov of all people, being his coach and living in his home, what on earth did he have to complain about?

When his skates hit the ice, Yuuri let every thought he had been holding onto go, or at least he tried to. He adjusted his earbuds, picked the playlist that lined up to how he was currently feeling and let go, attempting to allow himself to drown in the music and melt onto the ice. Yuuri had originally planned to use this time to work on his quadruple Salchow that he hasn’t been able to land perfectly more than once in a row. Victor must have noticed his frustration with that during practice and knew that’s what he was going to work on. The older man was much more perceptive than Yuuri wished he was and while he warmed up, he mulled over whether or not he should use this time to do so.

His choice was made when he launched himself into the first jump, completing all the needed rotations but still landing his hip against the hard ice. Yuuri hissed, used to the pain but knew he would have a large bruise there from failing so many jumps in one day.

 _’Again,’_ Victor’s voice rang in his ears over the music that was playing.

He launched into another, stumbling on the landing.

_’Again.’_

Yuuri pulled out his earbuds and let them dangle from the collar of his shirt, finally landing one correctly. He circled around the rink to do it again and failed, landing on his hip in the same spot again.

_’Disappointing.’_

_’Can’t even land a quad. What kind of skater are you?’_

_’Victor is wasting his time on a skater like you’_

Yuuri was skating into his approach fast, too fast. He let out a yell when he launched himself up and knew immediately he was going to land this wrong, sending him into a panic. A lump rose into his throat, his heart rate kicking up as he adjusted himself to try to make the impact more bearable but he still landed a little too sideways. Right onto his ankle.

There wasn’t a crack or a pop and Yuuri gave thanks in that moment to every single god in existence but cursed as he landed on the same hip for the third time. Yuuri cursed more as he slid along the ice on his side closer to the center of the rink, not an ideal place to be after a failed jump like that. He stayed like this for a while, laying on his side, skin against the cool ice, wishing he could just disappear as the tears began to fall slowly from his eyes. His ankle and hip were on fire but Yuuri didn’t care. In this moment he cared about nothing.

Yuuri didn’t hear the side door open, he didn’t hear the footsteps, he only heard a far off voice calling his name getting closer and closer but he didn’t care. Even when Victor was there pulling him up off the ice and asking Yuuri questions that just sounded muffled and unclear, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but stare up at those blue eyes filled with terror.

”Yuuri!” Victor shook him slightly, “Damnit Yuuri what did you do?”

”I can’t…”

”Can’t what? Talk to me, please Yuuri. _Please_.”

”I can’t even land…quad right…” The younger said quietly, “Wasting time…Victor’s time...”

”Yuuri that’s not-“

He was cut off as Yuuri started moving, getting to his feet and wobbling horribly. Victor moved to grab him but he pushed off, leaning on his good side and exiting the ice. Yuuri stumbled once he was off of the ice, barely making it to the nearest bench before he could fall again. The skater fumbled with his laces for a while before warm hands placed themselves on top of his own. Embarrassed, Yuuri pulled his hands away, watching Victor’s hands carefully untie his skate knowing damn well there would be a bruised and swollen ankle under it. Yuuri felt himself panic, his lungs unable to take in or let out air for what felt like a long period of time while the skate was carefully taken off of his foot.

Not a single word passed between the two. Victor took off his other skate, put the guards on, packed them up and got Yuuri into his coat and a single shoe. With the bag shouldered, Victor lent a hand towards Yuuri who packed up his shame and took it, allowing himself to be half carried by Victor who didn’t say a single word or even look at him on the way home.

Yuuri’s shallow breaths on the way hurt with every inhale. He was sure that tomorrow Victor would be packing his bags and going back to Russia.


	4. How do I help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vague mention on self harm, just kind of an anxiety time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is shorter than i wanted it to be but i was having trouble working through it. The next one will be much easier for me to work through so ye. my apologies for the short chapter, been adulting too much recently. and playing my league promos cause im trashhhh but its fun bleh

”Thank you, Mari,” Victor said, flashing a brilliant smile at Yuuri’s sister, “But I can take it from here. It’s just a sprained ankle is all.”

 

Mari raised an eyebrow at Victor, turned her eyes to Yuuri who hadn’t stopped looking at the floor and decided it’d be better to leave whatever had happened between the two of them. Because, seriously, the tension was too much to take anymore of. Even though she knew _something_ was up with Yuuri, she knew that this time leaving him in Victor’s hands would be better.

 

Yuuri swallowed dryly as he was led into Victor’s room and told to sit at the edge of the bed. He gripped the edge until his knuckles turned white because his chest was positively _aching_ from the short breaths that were denying his body the oxygen it needed. His heartbeat in his ears was too fast, his head was swimming, it was all too much but he couldn’t run away. His ankle denied him that privilege.

 

Victor kneeled in front of Yuuri, rolling up his pant leg and began to wrap the swollen, discolored ankle, “Yuuri, why do you think I am here?” There was no answer, Yuuri could hardly even breathe right now, let alone get words out. Victor let out a long sigh before continuing, “When I see you skate I see someone who can do everything I did, but better. I see a man who loves and lives to be on the ice, who wouldn’t spend a single second off it if he could chose to do so. I see someone with talent and passion.”

 

Yuuri’s breathing almost completely stopped. Victor was joking. He had to be joking. There was no way in heaven or hell Yuuri would ever amount to be half the skater that Victor is and talent? Yuuri wasn’t sure anyone had ever told him he was talented. He had fought for everything he earned on that ice from day one, there was no talent behind it, only hard work and dedication.

 

”I came here to coach you because I wanted to and if I was going to give up on you I would have gone back weeks ago with Yuri.” Victor pulled the bandage tightly, causing Yuuri to flinch, “Tell me Yuuri, how am I to get through to you? How do I get you to talk to me? How do I get you to eat, sleep and listen to me when I tell you to be safe? I cannot tell if you’re reckless or if you’re trying to lose me.” He secured the bandage, his fingers hesitating around Yuuri’s ankle. His next reply was much softer, “If you want me to go that badly Yuuri, please, just tell me and I will be on my way.”

 

Yuuri’s eyes widened, tears threatening to fall, “No!” he shouted at Victor out of panic, “Don’t say that! Don’t ever say that like it’s your fault!”

 

”Yuuri, I-“

 

”No.” He said again, his voice still too loud. Yuuri closed his eyes, letting tears fall from them, “Just don’t leave me…don’t give up on me-“, his voice broke into a sob. He hated crying in front of other people and crying in front of Victor was a new all-time low, but right now he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

 

”Yuuri,” Victor’s voice was soft, and careful, “Do you-..may I hold you?”

 

He wiped away his own tears, wanting to say yes. To be wrapped in those arms and feel safe but, during periods of high anxiety the contact is usually too much, “No. I don’t need that. I need to know you won’t leave. I need to know you still have faith in me.”

 

”I have no intention of leaving, Yuuri.” He said in a serious tone, one that was more compassionate than when he was in coaching mode, “I have more faith in you than I do anyone else, even more than myself. When your ankle heals we will work on jumps together, and only together. We will train hard and I will not stop being your coach until you tire of me.”

 

There was a pause as Victor carefully placed his hand on the others knee, “I don’t understand 100% what is going on, but I would like to know how to help. Someday when you’re ready you can explain it to me but, until then, I will do small things to help yes?”

 

Yuuri let out a small, shaky laugh as he wiped away the final tears. The best response he could give was a nod, then he pointed in the direction of his room. Once Victor helped him get there he left Yuuri to change (after madly shaking his head no at Victor asking to help him with that), came back with an ice pack, and only left after Yuuri’s ankle was properly elevated.

 

Neither of the two slept well that night. Victor was up much too late searching for ways to help (and was very excited at the mention of dogs helping). Yuuri, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to clear his mind. If not for his ankle he would have made a trip to the bathroom that night to numb out emotions again.


	5. Habits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!  
> Sorry it's been so long sense i posted. sometimes i go through periods of time where i just struggle to write.  
> Also! Just a heads up that this will have **pretty specific details of self harm** partially based on my own struggle with it. There's a smaller detail in the beginning part that will have a bit of relevance later on in the story.

Some say that the worst habits start young. Biting your nails, sucking your thumb, bouncing your leg under the table or picking your nose and flicking it on the nearest person. As one ages their habits age and change with them. Some are left forgotten while new ones are picked up along the way but, the worst ones will stay with you for a lifetime. For Yuuri, it started at fourteen. He isn’t sure exactly where or when the idea was placed into his head but the habit has followed him for nine years. In that span of time he’s felt no addiction to anything else.

 

It started off simple. It was just scratches here and there to ground himself while angry words filled his ears through the day. Each scratch seemed to take a word with it, so he would continue until each and every word was gone. Eventually it wasn’t enough.

 

At fifteen, Yuuri sat in the bathroom with a dull pair of scissors in one hand, trying his best to make a cut on his wrist. All he needed was to see the blood but the scissors did well in denying him this. On more desperate nights, he would carve into his skin with a safety pin.

 

At sixteen, Yuuri got ahold of his first blade. After removing the screw of a handheld pencil sharpener, it left him with a blade much sharper than that of the scissors and left much cleaner lines than a safety pin. In Yuuri’s eyes it never got too serious. The marks would last a few days on his thighs and most would fade into tiny, thin white lines, hardly noticeable by anyone. No one ever got close enough to notice anyway.

 

At eighteen Yuuri had fallen into more habits to hide the others. He changed for P.E. or at the rink when the locker rooms were empty. He only went into the baths late at night and still wore boxers into the bath, just in case. Most nights he only showered in his family’s private bathroom because it would seem that became his personal time to rid of the words of that day. The marks kept taking longer to heal.

 

Two weeks before he left for Detroit, he was cornered by old classmates. Yuuri was quiet while insults were thrown, he was already too numb to care or to cry. He’s repressed the memories of what happened when they moved in on him. He’s repressed the memory of the marks their hands left but he won’t ever forget sitting in the shower that night. Ten long, deep lines. He couldn’t feel a single one. He couldn’t feel anything.

 

When he met his roommate, Phichit, a lively ray of sunshine burst its happy ass into his life along with three hamsters. Those were the years he did the best, because he was actually half ass trying to quit. Instead of every other day, it started happening every other month. Then every other two months. Once there was a six month gap. He was close to another six months free, the last of the scars turning a lighter shade of red and the others finally white, but that was before he “blew his entire career.”

 

Anyone who watches the news or has an account on any social media knows what happened. Not many know he was screamed at in the bathroom by the ‘Russian Punk,’ not that it really mattered anyway. Not many know of his drunken actions at the Gala, not even Yuuri. Nor would they know of the binges, purges and the late night kissing of razors that took place for months afterwards. They wouldn’t know that his stepping down was laced with something else but that’s because they couldn’t see the scars on his skin. But it seemed everyone was to know about his performance for Yuko…the triplets made sure of that.

 

If Victor found out about the scars, Yuuri was sure he would be disgusted.

 

So Yuuri did what he does best. Hide.

 

But is it possible to hide from thee Victor Nikiforov?

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next two days were quite possibly the slowest two days of Yuuri’s life. If Victor wasn’t currently asking if he needed anything, then he would be attempting to drag Yuuri down to soak with him, claiming it would be good for his ankle sense the swelling was gone. Yuuri would refuse each time, leaving Victor to pout for a minute or two before he was back asking if Yuuri needed anything again or launched into some kind of story or another attempt at a conversation. The hovering and the fussing weren’t what drove him mad, but rather the outright fear that Victor would find out.

 

Victor, of course, was none the wiser. He had his own reasons for fussing and they _totally_ weren’t the feelings he had for Yuuri that he’d been working so hard to repress, of course, but rather because he was trying to figure out how to help in his own way. Yuuri would never notice how close those sparkling blue eyes watched his every move and studied his face for any change in emotion. He was much too busy trying to avoid Victor to notice almost anything the other man was doing. This worked heavily in Victor’s favor and for two days he learned as much about Yuuri as he possibly could.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

The next day Yuuri was back on the ice with a couple of restrictions from Victor. It was bad enough that he had lost two days of practice, now he wasn’t allowed to do jumps at all for the next two days. Yuuri showed his disappointment with only a small sigh and a frown. He had no mental energy to fight back today.

 

“I thought we might use this time to practice your Eros.” Victor said, leaning on the barrier while Yuuri did some warm up laps, “The last few runs of the routine lacked the emotion you had with you at Nationals. What happened Yuuri? Where did your Eros go?”

 

Yuuri skidded to a halt in front of him, offering a shrug in response.

 

“ _Yuuuuriii~_ ,” Victor called in a low voice, raising an eyebrow at the blush growing on Yuuri’s face, “You’ve been hiding from me.”

 

Yuuri nearly choked on the water he attempted to drink to avoid Victor’s gaze on his blushing face, “I’ve been what?”

 

Cold fingers lifted his chin so they were eye level now, Victor’s thumb wiping away a bead of water from the edge of Yuuri’s lips. They were nose to nose again, “You heard me Yuuri.” His breath ghosted over Yuuri’s lips, “What are you hiding?”

 

Yuuri pushed away from Victor, sliding back on the ice. “I-I haven’t been hiding anything. Sometimes I just…I just get anxious and push myself to hard but I’m fine Victor, really.”

 

Victor’s eyebrows knitted together briefly, his eyes flashing with an emotion that Yuuri recognized instantly as concern. The same concerned look everyone gave him when he sold himself off as ‘fine.’ The same look Phichit gave him when he left for home and the same one Mari gave him after watching him leave the bathroom very late at night. He didn’t dwell on the topic though. He instead ran his long fingers through his stupid, perfect hair, gave a sigh and told Yuuri to run through his step sequence.

 

Yuuri’s practice that day wasn’t anything spectacular, he was too focused thinking about the dark circles under Victor’s eyes. Had those always been there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading guys ive got no clue what im doin lmao


End file.
